


falling into place like dominos

by davidbrewer



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: (Although it's more of a frustrated confusion than a crisis tbh), Alcohol, F/F, First (Real) Kiss, Lesbian Stevie Budd, Post-Canon, Queer Themes, Sexuality Crisis, Spin the Bottle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:36:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29615091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/davidbrewer/pseuds/davidbrewer
Summary: Alexis spins the bottle and Stevie doesn’t know if she wants it to stop in front of her, or if she’s hoping it points literally anywhere else. She thinks she’ll figure it out when it stops moving, but… even with the neck of the bottle unmistakably pointing at her foot, she still can’t identify what the feeling is. Is that happiness or dread settling in the pit of her stomach? Since when do those completely different things feel exactly the same? If she’s being honest, though, it feels like a combination of things. It’s that feeling you get right before you do something you know you might regret later… like throwing back a jello shot (which she wishes she had done), calling an ex at 3am, or maybe jumping out of a plane.David and Patrick hold a second housewarming party, this time at their newly-renovated cottage. For old times' sake, they decide to play spin the bottle. Meanwhile, Stevie has been wrestling with her feelings for Alexis since she left for New York... and it never occurred to her that those feelings could flow both ways.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd & Alexis Rose, Stevie Budd/Alexis Rose
Comments: 14
Kudos: 48





	falling into place like dominos

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilythesilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilythesilly/gifts).



> Hello! This is my first Alexis/Stevie fic, answering a prompt from **lilythesilly** : Alexis comes back to SC for David & Patrick's housewarming in their new cottage. Somehow, they get talked into playing spin the bottle again and her and Stevie keep landing on each other.
> 
> Title is from 'Gold Rush' by Taylor Swift.

Stevie feels a strange sense of _deja vu_ when she walks into the cottage with a pair of plaid pajamas clinging to her hips — and _not_ because it’s the third time she’s spent the night in David and Patrick’s guest room. No, the feeling of familiarity _really_ sinks in when she sees the tray of vibrant jello shots on the dining room table… and the fully grown (now married) men standing behind them. For the second time since she’s known them, they’re wearing matching pajamas straight out of The Brady Bunch.

That’s two times too many.

She’s not the first one here, though. Twyla is standing in the living room, talking to a redhead Stevie recognizes as Patrick’s ex fiance, Rachel. They’re both holding solo cups and Rachel looks like she’s trying not to laugh at whatever story Twyla is animatedly telling — probably something about her drunk uncle’s stint in prison, if the hint of horror in Rachel’s eyes is any indication.

On the couch, Jake and Mutt are calmly chatting — she should be _surprised_ to see them here, but Mutt helped with some of the construction elements of the remodel, which scored him an invite to the “celebratory unveiling.” Meanwhile, there are several Jake-made pieces of furniture around the house, including the coffee table, the end tables, and Stevie suspects even the stools that line the bar-like counter in the kitchen. They’ve seen more of him than _she_ has, since she started traveling with the Rosebud Motel Group. She doesn’t care or anything, though — it’s not like she and Jake were anything but two bodies enjoying each other.

Still, Stevie makes a sharp left, heading over to the dining area and grabbing a beer from the ice bucket they have set up. There’s a nice little row of booze, too, and a couple mixers, then a large bowl filled with more ice and a little serving scoop. The arrangement _is_ pretty nice. It’ll stop anyone from having to go far for a refill. 

“What, no jello shot tonight?” David asks, left arm draped on Patrick’s shoulder.

“Oh, no. Nope. That lesson has been learned, thank you.”

Patrick tips his beer in her direction, as if in agreement.

She starts to say something teasing about the last time they did this — Ted isn’t around to wedge between them and crash their wedded bliss, or whatever, but then the there’s a shuffle from the stairs down the hall, immediately followed by a happy little shriek from Twyla on her right. When Stevie turns, she sees Alexis making an unnecessarily grand entrance to the room; she hugs Twyla enthusiastically, then turns to _boop_ Rachel on the nose. Stevie hears her say, “Well, hey, you!” like they’re old friends. Even Mutt gets a hug, and Jake says something Stevie can’t quite hear, but she can tell by the widening of Alexis’s eyes (and just, like, general knowledge of Jake) that it’s flirtatious as hell. She can practically _hear_ David rolling his eyes behind her. 

Stevie vaguely picks up on David and Patrick bickering about the whole scenario: _“She literally did this on purpose — she’s been here since we picked her up from the airport this morning, but she waits until now to come out, so she can do all of this!”_ _“Mm, because_ you’d _never do something like_ that _.” “It’s my —_ our _—housewarming party, Patrick, not her little welcome back party with her fan club.”_

But it’s all white noise behind Alexis’s laugh across the room. The bickering is something she’s used to, but _this_ sound simultaneously makes Stevie’s spine straighten and her toes curl. She’s not sure when Alexis Rose started to have that effect on her, but… _Ugh, it’s the fucking worst._ No. Actually, the _worst_ thing is that, when Alexis turns to face them and Stevie looks at her — really _looks_ at her — the effect doesn’t fade. Just the opposite, a flare explodes from her chest at the sight of Alexis in her lavender silk pajamas. It’s so strong, she’s almost surprised the entire room doesn’t see her heart crying out for help, sending sparks into the sky.

It’s been months since Alexis checked out of her room at the motel and moved into a small apartment in Brooklyn — months since Stevie watched her walk away with a confusing knot in the pit of her stomach. What’s that saying about not knowing what you have until it’s gone? Yeah. Stevie’s had a bit of _that_ going on. Watching her friend settle into her apartment via Snapchat, flipping through an incredibly active digital scrapbook on her Instagram… Stevie misses her in a way she never expected to. Days don’t pass as quickly without Alexis flouncing through the lobby of the motel and tapping her nail against the desk; they feel incomplete without a single _hey, girl_ , or tangents about Zac Efron and Kate Winslet and people Stevie’s never heard of. The void Alexis left is so unexpected, but not _nearly_ as unexpected as the way Stevie feels now that Alexis is right in front of her, beautiful as ever, and close enough to touch.

What the fuck _is_ that?

He train of thought comes to a screeching halt when Alexis turns her attention to them— or, more specifically, she turns her attention to Stevie, trilling an animated, “Hey, babe!” 

“Alexis,” she says, thankful for her excellent poker-face. Stevie can’t fake sincerity to save her life, but she relies on her ability to disguise it. “How’s New York?”

“Mm, fab!” Alexis replies, beaming and giving a shimmy of her shoulders. _Fuck, that’s cute._ “Alexis Rose Communications is _thriving,_ thank you for asking, and my cute little apartment is _really_ coming together.” She holds her hands together in front of her chest like an excited puppy. “Also, I’m sleeping soooo much better without David snoring in the same room.” She pointedly looks at Patrick, as if to say, _you poor thing._

Without missing a beat, David retorts, “Trip in front of a bus, Alexis.”

She waves him off with a typical, _“Ugh, eat dirt, David,”_ and, Stevie has to admit, she _does_ look happy. “But when are _you_ coming back to the city, Stevie? I know you went with my dad and Roland or whatever, but, I’m a _much_ better tour guide.” 

“Oh, I don’t know — eventually, probably.”

“Well,” Alexis says, “you need to _call_ me when you do. I’ll show you a good time.” Stevie swears Alexis winks at her with both eyes closed. How does she do that?

Anyway, Stevie tries not to read too far into _that_.

* * *

How they end up playing ‘Spin the Bottle’ is a little ridiculous. 

It starts when Alexis makes a joke about what happened at their last housewarming party, but her face does something kind of sad when she realizes she’s talking about Ted. So, David makes a very loud crack about Patrick kissing his sister — probably, Stevie thinks, to stop Alexis’s face from doing that awful thing it was doing. Next thing Stevie knows, Jake is saying that it sounds like a fun idea, and some combination of bickering and amusement leads them to where they sit now: in a circle on the living room area rug, Jake’s coffee table pushed off to the side.

It leads them to where they sit now, Stevie on one end of the bottle and Alexis at the other. _And there’s that feeling again._ “De ja vu,” she says aloud, wondering if Alexis even remembers — and she might, if the way she smiles is any indication. 

The last time this happened, though, Stevie didn’t feel her heart jump up into her throat at the thought of kissing her. It was just a peck, just part of a game… but now Stevie’s head spins in anticipation as Alexis crawls — literally crawls, _fuck_ — across the circle to close the distance. Stevie’s heart lurches again as Alexis gives another little shimmy of her shoulders and then leans in.

It’s not a long kiss. Stevie makes sure of it. Yet, somehow, even the short, chaste press of their lips lights something in the pit of Stevie’s stomach. None-the-wiser, Alexis grins before awkwardly scuffling backward on her knees to fall back in line. 

(Even _that_ is cute and it kind of pisses Stevie off.)

A few spins go by without incident — First, Alexis lands on Patrick and promptly says, “Ew, no.” She demands a do-over, which both David and Patrick happily oblige. So, Alexis spinsone more time and ends up kissing Rachel, who lands on Patrick. Stevie expects that to be incredibly awkward and cringe-y, but Rachel takes it in stride. She simply shrugs a shoulder and simply says, _“Nothing we haven’t done before, Brewer,”_ before giving him a brief peck on the lips. Naturally, Stevie looks directly to David and, actually, she’s kinda surprised and impressed by how unruffled David looks — he simply twists his wedding ring around his finger and meets Stevie’s eyes over their heads. There’s no panic in his eyes, like there would’ve been the first time around. (He’s changed, though; Stevie knows that. The rough edges he’d once cut her with have been softened — like a jagged rock on a shore, slowly sanded down by the tide. David is _getting used to_ being loved, and it looks good on him.)

That train of thought distracts her from the game, and she barely notices Patrick lean sideways awkwardly to kiss Mutt. Stevie tunes back into reality just in time to watch the bottle land on Alexis, and for them to laugh through what is obviously not their first kiss. Which means…

_Ah, fuck._

Alexis spins the bottle and Stevie doesn’t know if she wants it to stop in front of her, or if she’s hoping it points literally anywhere else. She thinks she’ll figure it out when it stops moving, but… even with the neck of the bottle unmistakably pointing at her foot, she still can’t identify what the feeling is. Is that happiness or dread settling in the pit of her stomach? Since when do those completely different things feel exactly the same? If she’s being honest, though, it feels like a combination of things. It’s that feeling you get right before you do something you know you might regret later… like throwing back a jello shot (which she wishes she had done), calling an ex at 3am, or maybe jumping out of a plane.

“Ooh, second kiss for you two,” Twyla says. “You know what that means.”

David says, “Ew,” at the same time Rachel says, “Tongue.”

“Okay,” Stevie says, “We’re not _actually_ in high school, guys.”

“It’s okay, Stevie,” Alexis chimes. “This is _nothing_ compared to that time Harry Styles and I played with a bunch of strangers in Bali. It was, like, Spin the Bottle meets Strip Poker, except there, like, weren’t any cards or anything.”

“So it wasn’t anything like Strip Poker,” Mutt drawls.

“ _Ugh_ , whatever, just come kiss me, Stevie.”

This time, it’s Stevie who crawls across the space between them, and she’s certain she doesn’t make it look _half_ as sexy as Alexis did. Just like before, she tries to make it quick and painless, but Alexis seems to take the rules of the game _very_ seriously; she swipes her tongue along Stevie’s bottom lip before she can pull away. 

Then it’s _game over._

Her entire body responds, gravitating closer to Alexis as if pulled by a string, lips parting for her effortlessly. _It feels different this time,_ and maybe that’s why Stevie feels compelled to lift her hand and gently cup Alexis’s cheek. Alexis doesn’t seem to mind, especially as she grabs Stevie’s wrist with her own hand, holding her there.

She tastes like strawberries. Is it weird that Stevie notices that? Whether it’s from the slick gloss on her soft lips or the jello shots lingering on her tongue, she can’t tell — but it’s intoxicating, and so is the scent of coconut wafting from Alexis’s blonde hair. 

No man she’s ever kissedsmelled _this_ good.

Kissing Alexis is _nothing_ like kissing any of her exes. Really, Stevie never imagined that kissing a woman would feel _this_ different… not that she’s spent a lot of time _imagining kissing women_ … She guesses she’s thought about it from time-to-time, but… _fuck_ , this whole train of thought is _not_ what she wants to get lost in right now. She’d rather get lost in the fact that _it feels fucking awesome_ without any of the bullshit emotions or implications of that feeling.

 _Whatever_ is happening, the fact is… she likes it. She likes how Alexis’s skin is smooth against her palm; there’s no rough stubble to grate against as she slowly traces her hand further up her friend’s jaw. And her hair! Her stupid, perfect, coconut-scented hair — _there’s just so much of it_ to run her fingers through into as she cradles the back of Alexis’s head. A dainty hand falls to Stevie’s hip and that’s different, too. She is falling, falling, _falling_ into this feeling, so fast that she forgets —

“The _fuck?_ ”

— David. 

Stevie jerks backwards, falling back onto her ass next to her best friend — after, you know, totally making out with his sister. Alexis laughs, though, the sound echoing like a bell in her ears. She says, “Oh my god, David, relax,” and Stevie clears her throat. “It’s just a game.” 

“Yeah, David,” Stevie says dryly, “It’s just a game.” With that, she pushes herself to her feet, trying to ignore the fact that her hands are shaking. “I’m gonna go get another drink. Alexis, you can spin again.”

David grabs the bottle before Alexis can. “Um, no. That’s enough of _that._ ”

The ringing in Stevie’s ears is too loud for her to tune into their bickering as she disappears around the corner and darts into the safety of the kitchen.

* * *

Fuck. _Fuck._ What the _fuck_ was that?

Stevie’s lips are tingling as she moves across the kitchen to the sink, which she turns on for just a brief moment to throw some cold water on her face. She grips the counter and leans forward on it, as if needs it to catch her breath. This is fucking ridiculous. She doesn’t _get_ like this, especially not over one (okay, two) measly kisses. The problem is that it doesn’t _feel measly_. It feels… What is the opposite of measly? 

Heavy. Important. _Monumental._

It feels like the entire world just shook, and now she’s straddling either side of a crack that could swallow her whole any minute.

Okay, those are some David-level dramatics. She needs to get it together.

When she hears footsteps approaching, her head jumps up, and she’s relieved to see Patrick standing in the archway, not his shriller half. He asks, “Are you okay?” and there is a sincerity in his eyes that’s so fucking _alarming._ Suddenly, she knows what David means when he says that his husband’s eyes are _being loud._

“Yeah,” she says — more like exhales. “Just, um. Getting another beer.” Except, she’s nowhere near the fridge, and she’s pretty sure Patrick saw her leaning on the counter like her life depended on it, and there were _several_ left in the bucket out front.

Patrick raises a thin brow. “That was one hell of a kiss.”

“It was just part of the game. It’s literally the _only_ purpose of the game, actually.” 

She’s rattled, and she doesn’t like it. Stevie prides herself on being unrattleable. 

So _what the fuck is this?_

“Yeah, it didn’t really _look_ like a game,” he replies. His voice is flat and knowing, but not judgmental. “Stevie, are you… I mean, do you… have feelings for Alexis?”

Fucking Patrick. She’s seen him do this a million times before — but she’s always been the casual observer as he brought David to his senses. She doesn’t like being on the receiving end of this… take-charge, organized, businessman side of him. She doesn’t like being _handled._ She doesn’t like the way he looks at her, right through her defenses like he’s wearing x-ray glasses.

“I don’t know,” is what she blurts.

“You don’t know?”

“No! I don’t know.” Her frustration pours into her tone. “Maybe? I’ve just… _missed_ her and I don’t just _miss_ people. And I felt something weird, when she left, and when I saw her tonight, but I’ve never… I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Patrick sighs. “It sounds like you should probably just talk to her.”

“Did you forget who you’re talking to? That’s not really my thing.”

“Well, you need to _make_ it your thing. There’s no way _out_ of this except _through_ — trust me, I’ve been there. When I met David, I was really confused, too, but the more I leaned into it, the more right it felt. When he kissed me the first time? Everything changed.”

Stevie scrunches her nose in what she attempts to make a moderately disgusted expression— that’s a notch too sappy for her — but she hears his point. What _is_ it with the damn Roses? Somehow, without any effort, they manage to pull everyone into their orbit. David, obviously, is arguably the most magnetic, but he’s not the only one. Even after David wiggled his way into her heart, she became Mr. Rose’s business partner, and Mrs. Rose’s protege, for a time, and Alexis’s… friend. They’re friends — they have been for a while — but none of her other friends make her hands shake the way she’s trembling right now… not even David, _who she’d actually had sex with._

 _“_ Just talk to her, Stevie, seriously,” he urges, backing up towards the fridge. “It takes two people to make a kiss like _that_ happen.”

Stevie’s brows pull together. “Wait, are you saying that you think…?”

“ _Talk_ to her.”

Patrick grabs two beers by the neck, hands one to her, and, with that, exits the kitchen. Stevie follows slowly, watching from the archway as he sits on the couch beside his new husband. When he does, David’s hand automatically falls to Patrick’s shoulder and gives him a welcoming squeeze, like he’s been gone for hours, like he’s welcoming him home, like… maybe, for David, Patrick is equally magnetic.

But, wait… That _is_ how magnets work, isn’t it?

Two, opposing objects are drawn together by an invisible, _irresistible_ charge, but that charge doesn’t just flow one way. The magnets need to respond to _each other,_ or it doesn’t work. It doesn’t stick. 

Stevie thinks about what Patrick said. _It takes two people to make a kiss like that happen._ Is it possible that Alexis could be just as drawn to Stevie as she is to her? As her eyes scan the room and catches the other woman looking directly at her, she thinks… maybe that isn’t such a ridiculous thought after all. Stevie starts toward her, Alexis rises to her feet, and they meet in the middle: like magnets, she observes. The thought makes her smile to herself, just a little bit. 

“So…” she says.

Alexis smiles and pushes her blonde hair over her shoulder. “So…”

“You wanna go outside?” Stevie blurts. “I can light the fire.”

“Mmhm, yep, definitely.” 

Stevie tilts her head to the back door and, when she glances back over at Patrick, she swears he’s smiling. _Fucking button._

* * *

The bonfire table is one of Stevie’s favorite additions to the house. It’s fairly large, covered in sand-colored cobblestone, and has the perfect-sized pit right in the center. It’s gas-equipped, but that entire concept apparently freaks David out — _“What if it starts leaking and we don’t notice? What if it catches fire?”_ — so Patrick keeps some kindling around and they light it the old-fashioned way. Alexis gets herself settled into one of the padded chairs, poking absentmindedly at her phone while Stevie gets it going; she doesn’t offer to help (but Stevie doesn’t expect her to).

When she looks up, Alexis is pulling at a small bunch of hair with both of her hands; it’s a gesture Stevie has seen her do multiple times, and Stevie’s always figured it’s a nervous tick. Is Alexis nervous? No, that’s too far. Believing that Alexis had liked kissing her is reasonable (Stevie is a very good kisser) but she draws the line at actually thinking that Alexis would be _nervous_ to talk about it.

“So, um, not to tell you what to do or whatever,” Alexis says — a statement that, when said by a Rose, usually precedes them doing exactly that, “but isn’t there, I dunno, gas or something that’ll do that for you? What are we, cave women?”

Stevie laughs at that. “There would be, if _your brother,_ ” (as if it’s her fault) “didn’t jump out of his skin when Patrick tried. He’s afraid we’ll burn the house down or whatever.”

“Oh my god. Of course he is.”

“I told him that at least your parents would save money on a cremation, but that didn’t seem to help.”

Alexis laughs — really _laughs —_ at that, and Stevie can’t stop the proud blush that covers her cheeks when she realizes that _she_ made Alexis make that sound.

She plops down on her chair, just about a foot from Alexis’s, and there’s a mildly awkward silence that falls once their laughter dies down.

Stevie says, “About that kiss,” at the same time Alexis says, “So, listen, Stevie.”

There’s some tense laughter, but then Stevie says, “You go.”

Alexis nods once and rearranges herself on the chair, now sitting with her back rail-straight. “I get the feeling that you haven’t actually, like, done that before.” Stevie opens her mouth to retort, but then Alexis amends, “with another girl,” and her mouth snaps shut. Stevie is only brave enough to nod a few times.

“Okay, well,” Alexis trills. “It wasn’t mine. Not, like, by a long shot. To be totally fair, I wouldn’t _really_ count my seven minutes in heaven with Mary-Kate because we were, like, both trying to get this guy’s attention at the time — which, in retrospect, was _so_ not cool, but we were twelve, so — anyway, the point is, I’ve definitely hooked up with a couple girls for funsies, and I really don’t do labels, but. Um. I guess. I’m…” She pulls at that strand of her hair again, both of her hands moving about as quickly as her mouth. “I don’t really know how to tackle this because you’re not… just… _Ugh,_ I mean, you’re, like, my _friend,_ Stevie, one of the first real ones I’ve ever had, and I really don’t wanna do anything to screw that up? Especially because you’re David’s best friend and he’d probably never talk to me again if I, like, hurt you or whatever.”

Stevie says, “Okay, well, I don’t think _that’s_ true.” She’s stalling while the rest of the information processes. As usual with Alexis, it’s _a lot_ of additional information. “David loves you, Alexis. He’s not going to just _not talk to you_ again. You’re not the people you were… before.”

“Yeah, maybe, but…”

Stevie bites her lip. “If it weren’t for David, though,” — she holds up her hand as she sees Alexis moving to protest — “just… humor me. If it weren’t for David, what would you… want?”

“Well, what I _want_ doesn’t change either way,” she says, now twirling that bundle of hair around her finger. “It’s more, like, a… _right thing to do_ situation, which… is a new thing for me to… um. Care about.”

“What is the _right thing to do_ , then?”

“I don’t know, Stevie,” she says, exasperated, as she throws her hands in the air. She’s never looked more like David. “That’s why we’re having this conversation, hello.”

Stevie can’t help it. She snorts a laugh. 

Alexis looks at her like she wants to smother her in her sleep. 

She clears her throat. “Okay, well… I don’t know if you’re aware, but I wasn’t exactly a social butterfly before you guys moved here.” She looks at Alexis, her gaze more sincere than it’s been since she told Patrick that she already knew where she’d bury his body if he hurt David, back when he showed her the engagement rings. “You’re one of the first real friends I’ve had too.”

“But that kiss, like… _worked_ for you?”

“Yeah. Um, it… worked for me.”

“Well,” Alexis says. “If I don’t want to fuck up our friendship, and _you_ don’t want to ruin our friendship… how about we just… _don’t_ fuck it up?”

“That sounds like a plan to me, yep.”

Stevie looks away, trying not to look disappointed — not that she’s looking to ruin her friendship with Alexis, or anything. She’s probably right. They haven’t done anything but kiss during a dumb game of Spin the Bottle _at Alexis’s brother’s house_ at this point. They can leave it at that and go back to being what they were before an empty wine bottle shifted the tectonic plates of Stevie’s universe. 

“Stevie,” Alexis says, and she turns her head to find her friend already leaning in. _Don’t fuck it up._ Stevie meets her mouth halfway, _eagerly,_ and her hand immediately flies to where she’d left it before David interrupted; her fingers slip back into her delicate waves of blonde hair. She _swears_ she feels Alexis smile against her lips, and everything starts to get a little hazy at that point. She doesn’t know which of them licks past the other’s lips first, but it’s hard to care when Alexis’s tongue is in her mouth and she tastes like jello shots and chocolate. It’s fucking heaven, or Stevie thinks it is until Alexis just _barely_ pulls away to pull Stevie off her own chair and into her lap — because no, no _this_ is heavenly. Alexis’s hands run up her back, beneath her ratty pajama shirt, and rest on the small of her back while both of Stevie’s hands push back into Alexis’s hair, cradling her head like she’s the most precious thing she’s ever held in her hands.

_Maybe she is._

Stevie’s hands can’t stay in one place, though, and she lets them trail down to the sides of Alexis’s neck, to her shoulders, down her sides... Alexis shivers as Stevie’s hands softly trace either side of her, fingertips pressing into the hems of her silk tank-top; she feels a thrill at that, at Alexis actually _shivering_ , just because Stevie is touching her as delicately as she knows how to. Eventually, her hands settle on Alexis’s hips, and she completely loses track of how long they sit there, the warmth from the fire casting onto Stevie’s back as they kiss — no, full-on make out — outside the cottage. 

It’s perfect.

It’s the most perfect thing she’s ever experienced.

She’ll have so much to unpack when she gets home — what Patrick said about how it finally _felt right_ with David, how no man ever made her stomach flutter like it’s been fluttering since she laid eyes on Alexis tonight, not even when they were _very good_ at celebrating her body. Nothing — no one — has ever made her feel this electric, and they’re literally just _kissing,_ at this point.

Now isn’t the time to think about that.

Now, she’s drowning in Alexis. She loses herself in the shape of her mouth and the scent of coconut and fire wrapped around her like a blanket. When she eventually pulls back for air, she’s breathing heavy enough to be embarrassed about it — or, she would be, if she didn’t see the rise and fall of Alexis’s chest moving with hers.

And then she does the one thing you’re definitely not supposed to do immediately after making out with someone for an indeterminate amount of time: she _laughs._ She laughs until her hand flies to cover her mouth, and Alexis is smiling up at her, so radiant in the dim fire-light. She doesn’t look offended by Stevie’s laughter, at least — just bemused, maybe — and she says, “Not the response I expected.”

Stevie shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m just…” She bites her lip, but ends up just grinning around it. “This is literally the last thing I ever thought would happen tonight.”

Alexis says, “Ouch, Stevie,” as one hand flies to her chest in mock-offense, but it definitely isn’t sincere — Stevie knows these things now. Knows _Alexis_ now.

She’s not the naive girl who moved into the motel all those years ago.

She is playful, and confident, and… weirdly _generous_ and… _good._

And she’s laughing with her, a lithe hand reaching up to brush Stevie’s hair behind her ear. “We should probably go back inside before David walks out here and threatens to gouge his little eyes out.” 

“God,” Stevie laughs. “Did you see his fucking face in there?”

“I thought he was going to have an aneurism.” 

Stevie snorts, then fondly shakes her head. They’re both laughing again.

“So, um. Speaking of,” she says, “ _before_ we go inside, what… do I tell him, exactly, when he asks… what _this_ is.”

Alexis shrugs. “Tell him you’re gonna see how a date goes before you answer that question.”

“Really?”

Alexis nods once.

“I hear the new cafe is pretty good,” Stevie says, keeping her voice casual. “Twyla’s Tropical… _something._ They’ve been working on some new menu items. _”_

 _“Mmhm,_ sounds delish.”

“Tomorrow?”

“It’s a date,” Alexis says, removing her hand from Stevie’s back to tap her index finger once against her nose. 

“It’s a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://davidbrewer.tumblr.com)!


End file.
